


Inside Out

by Polly_Lynn



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Angst and Humor, Gen, Humor, Racism, Team Bonding, Team Dynamics, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-29
Updated: 2017-06-29
Packaged: 2018-11-21 03:54:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11349351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Polly_Lynn/pseuds/Polly_Lynn
Summary: “Nazis,” Daniel raised his fourth shot.Teal’c hoisted his pint of hard-won orange soda in answer, intoning, “I hate these guys.”





	Inside Out

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this a million years ago, before science was invented. I corrected some of the punctuation for the dialogue tags, but have otherwise left it untouched. I've been watching SG-1 as my "background show" while I work/do other things, and "The Other Side," just came around. It's the episode where SG-1 thinks they've FINALLY found a useful ally who can share technology, only to find they're eugenicist super villains. It's always tickled me that Peter DeLuise directs his wife as a eugenicist super villain here.

“Nazis,” Daniel raised his fourth shot.

Teal’c hoisted his pint of hard-won orange soda in answer, intoning, “I hate these guys.”  

Carter nodded firmly as she added her own shot glass to the mix. Jack followed suit, slopping a bit on the table as he thrust his own glass into the center of his team’s with a gratifying clash. 

Jack squinted bar-ward as just a little bit more of the forced camaraderie disappeared with the liquor.

By unspoken agreement, they’d gathered at the grittiest, sleaziest bar in the Springs. Someplace that would be up and running at eleven-hundred hours. Someplace a little dirtier than them. 

Sunlight burned through the filthy, shuttered windows. The razor-thin shafts, heavy with smoke and dust, bleached the front of the place into oblivion, leaving them comfortably invisible in the darkest corner. 

“‘’Nother round?” O’Neill swung his legs out of the booth. 

“Yes!” Daniel slammed his shotglass down. 

Teal’c drained his pint and did the same. “Indeed.” 

“Carter?” 

“Ok,” she said warily as she gathered the glasses together. “But this is five. No singing, Daniel.” 

“I . . . what? I don’t sing!”

“Indeed you do, DanielJackson,” Teal’c frowned. One particularly repetitive Abydonian folk song had often thwarted his attempts to Kel’no’reem.

“Well, I wouldn’t call it singing, exactly,” Jack juggled the glasses into manageable handfuls and headed for the bar. The good-natured argument raged on behind him, loosening the knot in his gut the slightest bit. 

“More of the same.” He slid the glassware toward the bartender’s unresponsive bulk. 

“Sure your ‘friend’ can handle another sodie pop?” he said sourly as he hauled himself up off an unbelievably hairy set of forearms. 

“We’re keeping an eye on things, don’t you worry, ‘friend’.” Jack’s fist somehow found itself bunched around the grimy, stretched out neck of the bartender’s T-shirt.  

A beat of silence enveloped the bar. 

Daniel’s voice rang out from their secluded corner. “No, the inflection is different, and it’s a half step higher, see . . .” 

His dissonant falsetto was joined by a grating chorus of barstools scraping backward. Jack found himself suddenly in the center of a dense forest of leather-clad shoulders. 

“Easy.” He unclenched his fist and dusted the front of the bartender’s shirt. “Easy boys. There’s no problem here. Right, friend?” 

“No problem.” The bartender grunted and turned to the array of bottles behind him. 

“How about a round for my friends here, too?” Jack slapped the nearest shoulder. 

The forest receded, a bit reluctantly.

“Thanks. And sorry,” Jack mumbled as he tossed a couple of bills on the one moderately dry spot on the bar. “Bad day, you know?”

The bartender shrugged and set down the quartet of glasses. 

Folding his hands around the drinks, Jack edged his way clear of the bar and made for the corner booth. 

“Not me!” Daniel was expostulating. “I’m nearsighted!”

“ . . . a minor flaw that could most likely be corrected by their beta-canton.” 

“That stuff.” Daniel said disgustedly. “Probably ground ‘breeder babies.’ Or worse.” 

“Everything ok, sir?” Carter inclined her head toward the bar as she rescued two of the precariously balanced shots. 

“Oh yah. Just making friends in low places.” He gave her a grin as he slid in next to Teal’c. 

“No, not me. Sam’s the only one of us they’d’ve wanted.” 

Daniel continued his monologue as though Jack hadn’t come back. As though he’d never left, maybe. They’d have to keep an eye on Danny boy if he was missing time already. 

“Me? Why me?” Carter’s eyes widened.

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe the blond hair, perfect skin . . .” Daniel bumped her shoulder affectionately. “Those big blue eyes?” 

“That whole tall, warrior woman thing?” Jack’s glass traced an hourglass in the air. 

“I dye my hair, you know. I am *not* some kind of eugenic ideal!” She tossed back her shot and slammed the glass down angrily. 

“Nonetheless, MajorCarter, it is clear that your children would be most sought after in any such society.” 

“I . . . this . . . YOU . . .” she sputtered.  

“SamSamSam . . .” Daniel grimaced as he downed his own shot. He turned toward her, swaying slightly as he struggled to bring her into focus. “I want you to know . . . and I’m being serious here . . .  that we wouldn’t let that happen. Am I right guys?” 

“Absolutely.” Jack raised his glass with mock sincerity. “Carter, I would totally contaminate your gene pool. You know. To save the world.” 

Sam flushed to her grown-out roots even as her foot snaked to crack him on the shin. Daniel’s alcohol-slowed sense of humor caught up, and he pounded the table in breathless laughter. Teal’c hid what might have been an actual smile behind his soda. 

The bartender appeared, tray and rag in hand, and began clearing the table, “Get you’se anything else?”

“Nah.” O’Neill smiled ruefully as he rubbed his shin. “I think we’re good.”

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry. No excuse for posting this, except when I remembered that I had written it, I got stubborn about finding it on my hard drive, which I'm having to go through with a fine-toothed comb for unpleasant reasons, so I'm indulging myself here.


End file.
